


i can't get enough of you (but i love it)

by funkietowns



Series: i write sins not tragedies! [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkietowns/pseuds/funkietowns





	i can't get enough of you (but i love it)

It starts when Yixing tip-toes to kiss Yifan’s cheek, but misses and instead his lips brush against his earlobe. It sends jolts of electricity running down Yifan’s spine, but he only stands still, continuing to chatter away with their group of friends. It’s when Yixing’s hand travels to Yifan’s ass while no one is paying attention. Yifan’s whole face goes pink when Yixing gropes him, and yet, he remains unfazed in front of everyone else. It all gets to Yifan the moment Yixing removes his first piece of clothing of the night. He pushes the jacket into Yifan’s hands and looks up at him with a knowing smile. Yifan cocks his head a little, but holds onto the jacket. It’s practical of Yixing, so none of their friends even bat an eye at him. Yifan, however, is soon consumed by the view his boyfriend allows him. The shirt he wears reveals his collarbones, the glowing skin unspeakably requesting to be abused by Yifan’s own lips. Just this mere sight has his throat dry, his senses peaking, and his urgencies becoming prominent in the form of a boner. He finds it embarrassing, and excuses himself before anyone can notice a thing. Yixing follows after him with a pleased smile.

He knows what this is about. He’s aware that Yixing is doing it to tease him. It’s unbelievable, that they’re over at a friend’s place to have fun (a different kind of fun), and Yixing still has the nerve to do these things to him. Part of him despises it, the inability to resist Yixing; he hates that he can never get enough of the man (but he loves that he never will). It’s more than obvious that Yixing is insatiable when it comes to Yifan. It’s perhaps the reason they find themselves inside of Minseok and Luhan’s bedroom while everyone else, excluding Jongin and Tao, are out in the living room partying. Yifan doesn’t expect to see the two young men sitting on the floor watching TV, so when he enters and pushes Yixing on the bed, ready to teach him a lesson, he instantly retracts from his boyfriend. Yixing stands up with lightning speed and rubs the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. They smile awkwardly at the guys, almost apologetically. Tao rolls his eyes because this isn’t the first person who has barged in like that; Jongin only looks up unknowingly before his attention goes back to the TV. In any case, they manage to find a spot in the corner of the room next to the bed where Yifan is sure no one will bother them.

They’re as discreet as they can be, and make themselves comfortable on the floor. The only audible thing is coming from the movie Jongin and Tao are currently watching. Yifan isn’t too sure what movie it is, only that it’s sounds extremely familiar. In any case, it’s Jongin and Tao that he’s thinking about; they’re probably watching some stupid American movie for all he knows. As Yifan tries to make out the words in English, he soon becomes distracted by Yixing, who is invading his personal space with his lips. He smiles and pulls Yixing closer to straddle his thighs.

“Finally you’re getting what you wanted.” Yifan says. His voice is low and sexy, Yixing thinks.

“Not just yet.” Yixing hums. He grabs at Yifan’s hands with his own and intertwines their fingers.

“Oh? Go ahead and show me what you want, then.” Yifan whispers, not exactly thinking about the consequences. Yixing, he doesn’t waste a second. His lips cover Yifan’s, and he kisses him. _Slowly_ , _softly_ , _sensually_.

Yifan is already inexplicably turned on due to the few glasses of wine he had earlier consumed. It now kicks in, and he feels fuzzy all over; his body is burning, yearning for more than just kisses. He has no idea why red wine causes him to react in this form; however, it doesn’t mean that he likes the results any less. On most occasions, Yifan understands what drinking will lead him to: a raging boner, a hard time keeping track of a conversation, and antsy hands that need to hold on to every single thing his eyes see or fingertips come in contact with. He loves the feeling, though, the daze going through his head, but most importantly, knowing that Yixing takes advantage of the fact that he has no self-control after the alcohol takes into effect. He’s not drunk, by any means—just a little tipsy, a little handsy, and a lot of horny.

This is not to say Yixing is a saint when it comes to drinking. He’s also not the very best at being able to handle his liquor very well, but unlike Yifan, he doesn’t throw himself head-first into something he knows he can’t handle. He’s come to think the other might just have an addiction—to either sex or alcohol, he’s not sure which it might be. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Yifan’s lips feel amazing against his own, now that they’re finally (kind of) alone. Kissing him is what he wanted all along, but the longer he does so, the more desperate he becomes. He kneels over Yifan’s thighs, each leg on either side of his to keep the man from moving. It’s a perfect position, he thinks, for grinding and fucking. They’ve done it like this plenty of times, and Yixing loves it. Like this, Yifan has no true role in fucking him; it’s just Yixing, all Yixing. Yixing riding Yifan’s cock, Yixing choosing the tempo, Yixing creating the tightness, _Yixing Yixing Yixing_. (Yifan isn’t one to complain, by any means. He absolutely loves the idea.)

With the back of his head pressing against the wall, Yifan can clearly hear music from the living room. This time he doesn’t try to figure out what song it is, or who’s singing along with it. His mind concentrates on Yixing’s lips, his tongue, his teeth, and his breath. He holds a deathly grip to Yixing’s hands, not allowing himself to move them anywhere on his own body. This is mostly to avoid their make-out session from escalating, considering they’re not anywhere near their own bedroom. His efforts seem to be done in vain with each kiss Yixing gives him. It’s impossible for things not to intensify between them, but this is expected.

Jongin and Tao are already sending the couple weird looks from the front of the bed, but Yifan somehow manages to shoot a sorry smile towards them. The corner of his mouth soon curves up into a small smirk when Yixing resumes to attack his lips in a fury of quiet kisses, each touch of their lips sounding louder than before—however, this time around not loud enough to distract the guys from the movie they’re watching. (Tao is a whiny bitch though, so he has Jongin turn the volume all the way up just to make sure they won’t be able to hear them anymore. They’ve both learned that it’s not weird if they don’t really know what’s going on. It’s come in handy.)

Yixing’s lips turn into a wide grin once the volume has been raised, and his hands slide down the front of Yifan’s shirt, gripping onto the beige cloth that covers his chest and the rest of his torso. He tugs the man closer, and despite it being dark, Yifan’s eyes manage to dumbly follow the outline of Yixing’s own eyes, then his nose and lips. He’s captivated by simple movements of his face, fingers twitching in anticipation to slip his own hands underneath his lover’s shirt. As soon as he does so, he leans forward, capturing Yixing’s lips in an engulfing kiss. The younger man doesn’t wait another second to shut his eyes, taking in the way Yifan kisses him: needy and keenly. He reciprocates by tilting his head, his own lips moving in accord to the aggressive way in which Yifan is kissing him. It’s a hot and breathless mess of slick and greedy tongues meeting, and teeth bumping against each other in attempts to find purchase of soft and delicate flesh.

Yifan’s blood is boiling when he feels Yixing’s damn tongue protrude further into his wet cavern, his pink muscle easily gliding inside his mouth to taste him dangerously slow. His body goes tense underneath him each and every time that wet muscle laps at the roof of his mouth, and Yixing takes note of that. He weakly groans, and his hormones skyrocket through the roof at the sensations that Yixing’s delicious tongue gives him. Almost as if informing Yixing that he’s hazardously close to cracking, Yifan’s big and strong hands hold Yixing’s waist tightly. Calloused palms slip higher underneath the younger’s shirt, and Yifan roughly feels him up, leaving Yixing’s skin burning. At this point, Yifan isn’t even trying to hide his desire anymore. The manner in which he touches Yixing makes it completely evident of what he so much wants.

Yixing’s body feels like it’s on fire with Yifan’s hands caressing his skin in such a subtle but pronounced manner; every part of his hands knowingly touch Yixing just the way he likes it, and not a single speck of his torso is forgotten. Yifan always puts his palms, fingertips and nails to good use, and if that isn’t the definition of a good boyfriend, then Yixing isn’t sure what is. It takes a moment for them to calm down from their fierce make-out session, their lips instead molding together in a gentler kiss where they’re able to regain their breaths. A soft gasp catches in Yixing’s throat at the sudden hand that palms his clothed erection. He wants to curse, but Yifan’s teeth are constantly nibbling on his bruised and swollen lips, making it hard to even think properly.

When Yifan pulls away, he looks at the smaller man with hooded eyes, the tent in his own pants harder than ever. He wants to. He really wants to fuck Yixing right here and right now, but they’re practically in public, and to tell the truth, he’s never done something as crazy as this. His conscience reminds him that this is a stupid idea, but his body is nearly screaming to take Yixing then and there. Yixing’s hands have already determined the answer they’ve both subconsciously been wanting all along by skillfully undoing his boyfriend’s jeans without any of the hassle.

“Xing…” Yifan’s voice is above a whisper. “We’re kind of in publi—” Yixing shuts him up with a kiss before he can finish his sentence.

Yifan is so easily defeated, that it’s almost funny to his boyfriend. Goosebumps arise all over his skin when Yixing’s fingers slowly tug the front part of his briefs down, revealing his hardening cock. The small smirk the younger male shows doesn’t make Yifan feel so certain about what they’re about to do, but as soon as a warm hand is palming his bare erection and squeezing at it, something in the back of his mind unclicks. With Yixing’s hand all over his cock, Yifan doesn’t give a damn about where they fuck. Yixing licks his lips, and leans closer to Yifan until his mouth is touching the shell of his ear. He breathes heavily, and Yifan thinks he’s losing his mind.

“I need your cock buried in me right now…” Yixing moans. His tongue darts out, and he erotically laps at Yifan’s ear. “Please, _daddy_?”

A warm hand wraps around Yifan’s hardened shaft; Yixing feels Yifan shiver and he listens carefully as he breathes out a groan. Yifan longingly gazes at him, eyes matching the inexplicable desire they’re both containing. His hand finally moves to pump Yifan’s cock, and he’s the first to hiss out a curse.

“ _Holy shit_.” Yifan nearly stops breathing. He’s done for. He has no say whatsoever—and it’s not like he _has_ much to say. The younger male reaches out towards his back pocket and when his free hand is back in view, he holds out two small packages for Yifan to take.

“Don’t make me wait.” He sounds so unconcerned and in all honesty, Yifan is far too lost in the moment to care about anything. He takes initiative by tugging the front part of his jeans and briefs all the way down to his thighs. Yixing’s eyes wander along his boyfriend’s nether area due to the light from the tv, and he takes in the satisfying sight of pleasing his boyfriend with just his hand. He lets go of Yifan’s cock to quickly shimmy out of his jeans and briefs without needing to move so much. Embarrassment is what washes over him when he realizes he should’ve taken his shoes off first; Yifan can’t help but to laugh when he notices the hem of the Yixing’s jeans are now stuck around his purple converse.

Soon, Yixing is concentrated on Yifan, who rolls the condom onto his erected shaft. His hands work slowly as if to perfect the task, and when he’s done, Yixing takes the other packet Yifan had earlier dropped on the floor. He rips it open with his teeth, and drizzles the oily substance on the head of Yifan’s length. Yifan swallows thickly, watching as Yixing’s fingers spread the lube across and around his girth in such a deliberate manner. He nearly chokes on nothing but air at the mere sight of Yixing fingering himself open with the leftover lube. He thinks that he might just come from watching Yixing touch himself. It’s such a sexy sight, he considers asking him to do it more often. The younger man catches on, and kisses Yifan as his fingers move inside his own hole, his digits easily slipping in and out until he feels that he’s ready.

Tao and Jongin have long decided to ignore the couple that hides at the back of the room, mainly because Yifan and Yixing have managed to shift closer to the king-sized bed, making it harder for the other two to see them at all. Now, Yifan barely even cares if they’re caught; his mind is consumed and clouded by lust and dozens of other sensations because Yixing is finally lowering himself onto his thick cock. Yixing’s facial expression becomes stoic as he’s open wide for the other; the pain is slight, but still there as Yifan fills him up to the hilt. His walls wrap around Yifan’s shaft perfectly tight, and he thinks nothing and no one can compare to this moment, this feeling, this fullness.

Kneeling on the floor allows Yixing to experimentally roll his hips. He plants the balls of his feet on the floor for stability, raising his hips a little higher for faster movements, and allows Yifan to sit back and enjoy the ride. His arms come around Yifan’s broad shoulders, and his lips attach themselves to Yifan’s lips almost instantly. Small huffs and short breaths leave Yixing’s mouth as he gyrates his lower half in such a sinful, unhurried manner. His ass is touching Yifan’s thighs when he lowers all the way down, allowing himself to be filled ceaselessly. Before he knows it, Yifan’s head is dipping down, and his lips are wrapping themselves around a patch of skin on his neck, sucking ever so gently. Yixing has to bite down on his lip to remain as silent as he can, but as the pleasure is increasing, he can already feel his eyes begin to tear up.

Quietly fucking isn’t as easy as he first thought it to be. There’s a lot of Yifan panting, Yifan’s hot breath overpowering his senses, and Yifan’s muffled groans sounding just a bit louder than the movie Jongin and Tao are currently watching. (Yixing supposes that maybe it seems this way because they’re impossibly close, and in reality, their fucking isn’t as loud as he wishes it to be.) Even so, the movements of his hips never falter; he maintains the same pace, even when Yifan’s hands are planted on his asscheeks, spreading them wide for easier access to his clamping hole.

He rides Yifan’s cock skillfully, loving each second that he’s filled up, each twitch of Yifan’s cock, and each time Yifan gropes his ass. They fuck slowly at first, but soon his movements become unsteady, hurried, and then _faster_ when the head of Yifan’s length hits a spot deep inside him, causing his hips to abruptly stutter. He breathes out something between a moan and a whimper, and ends up hiding his face against Yifan’s neck to remain as quiet as possible. His hips snap as he continues to ride Yifan, and his cock brushes against the other’s bare stomach (Yifan had quickly pulled his shirt up for specific purposes)—and Yixing thinks it’s too much, the pleasure is _too much_.

His mouth is soon occupied by Yifan’s tongue, which steals the sound from him, and Yixing, although he struggles to find his breath, continues to gyrate his hips. It’s when Yixing pulls away to murmur _touch me_ that Yifan’s hand finally comes in between their bodies. He fondles with Yixing’s balls, and the smaller man gasps out the softest cry of his name, finding that the touch of Yifan’s hands, and the feeling of his cock abusing his prostate is driving him to a state of overwhelming bliss. Yifan is rubbing the head of Yixing’s length, playing with the precum, and Yixing suddenly doesn’t know of anything but how to mindlessly fuck himself on his boyfriend’s dick, desperate fervor quite evident. Yixing’s hips falter once more, and like this, he’s splattering all over Yifan’s shirt (but Yifan doesn’t seem to care one bit. The sight of Yixing working so hard for his own release makes him _shiver_.)

Despite Yixing’s sensitivity, he doesn’t dare stop before Yifan comes. He knows exactly what gets Yifan off. He knows what he likes, and that usually all it takes are a few words, a few kisses, and a few urgent hair tugs until he’s done. This time, Yixing opts for a few kisses, nibbles, and kitten-like licks to Yifan’s ear. He watches Yifan’s face closely: how his eyes are shut tightly, how his eyebrows scrunch together, and how his teeth bite into his lower lip. Yixing notices the rise in his chest when he sucks on his sensitive earlobe this time, and then, with the low growl Yifan emits, he knows. Yifan comes in a matter of seconds, the warmth of his seeds overfilling the condom; Yixing wishes so much they had skipped on it, but he supposes that this, feeling the way Yifan pulsates inside him, is better than nothing.

They don’t remain attached to each for too long; Yifan holds the condom from the base of his cock when Yixing lifts himself up, and he instantly misses the warmth that had once surrounded him. Without a word, Yixing slips back into his own clothes, and Yifan discards the condom, unsure of what to do about his come-coated dick. Yixing glances at him, cheeks flushing when he realizes the stain on his shirt. “I’ll be back.” He whispers, and exits the room. He comes back with toilet paper, and allows Yifan clean himself up while he puts his shoes back on. The movie ends as soon as they step out of the room, and Jongin and Tao stand up and stretch, but don’t bother to ask for the couple.

“I can’t believe we did that.” Yifan admits as he zips his pants up while they’re on their way to the living room. Some of his hair has stuck to his forehead due to the fact that he was sweating.

“You know who will believe it? Everyone once they realize how long we’ve been gone. And that stain.” He smirks and points at it. Yifan scowls at him. He’s glad the come stain on his shirt isn’t so visible now, but that’s only because he agreed to wear Yixing’s jacket in order hide it and save himself from embarrassment. Never did he think he’d be the one wearing Yixing’s clothes, but Yifan supposes that seeing Yixing smiling so triumphantly is so worth it.

“They won’t know unless you mention it.” Yifan responds. “They wouldn’t believe it. They don’t think of me as the kinky type, or the type to fuck in someone else’s room.”

“Then I should bring up the reason as to why you’re wearing a jacket one size smaller. Then they’ll believe all of it.”

Yifan thinks about his response, and shrugs. “Let them believe it. I’ll tell them you let me raw you.”

Yixing playfully glares at him. “You wouldn’t dare.” Deep down, they both know he’s serious.

“Try me.”

Yixing does try him only after their friends (jokingly) accuse them of leaving simply to fuck. Yifan doesn’t have to say anything because when Tao and Jongin stumble into the living room a few seconds after them, the embarrassed, perhaps grossed out look on their faces completely proves Yixing’s jacket statement. (Minseok nearly faints after Yifan screams “Yixing let me raw him!”, thus leading to the eternal ban of any other couple fucking inside their household besides him and Luhan.)


End file.
